


button up quick, laughing or shaking, sometimes both.

by el_em_en_oh_pee



Series: tumblr "drabbles" [1]
Category: Little Mix (Band)
Genre: F/F, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, catholic schoolgirl jesy, fighting over souls, queen of the damned perrie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7532572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_em_en_oh_pee/pseuds/el_em_en_oh_pee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jesy never mistook Perrie for a student - something about the way her ropy black skirt swirled around her as she first walked through the halls of St. Thérèse’s Academy for Girls screamed of unbelonging - but no one would be able to mistake her for anything close to a human girl right now. Her outraged shrieks echo with the millennia she’s existed through, and all of the horrors she’s witnessed and instigated. “Don’t hide from me,“ is what she’s saying, now, and she’s using her commanding voice, the deep and terrifying voice that makes every single hellbeast Jesy’s seen since coming to this school cower and obey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	button up quick, laughing or shaking, sometimes both.

**Author's Note:**

> from my [perrie edwards: queen of the damned](http://dulosis.tumblr.com/tagged/queen%20of%20the%20damned) tag!verse. someday i'd like to play in this universe more! originally written for the following prompt:
> 
> VALENCING: "19 (FORCEFUL KISS): PERRIE QUEEN OF THE DAMNED/JESY TIMID SCHOOLGIRL (WAS THIS YOUR BRILL AU CONCEPT IF YOU HAD IT THE OTHER WAY AROUND THAT'S GREAT TOO)"
> 
> part of my 'crossposting everything over 1k that i've written from tumblr to ao3" initiative.

Perrie screeches again, an unholy sound that echoes throughout the school’s cavernous sanctuary. She sounds almost like a normal girl, Jesy thinks, dizzily, as she crouches behind the ornate altar, clutching her crucifix in one sweaty hand. Except for when she screams.

Jesy never mistook Perrie for a student - something about the way her ropy black skirt swirled around her as she first walked through the halls of St. Thérèse’s Academy for Girls screamed of unbelonging - but no one would be able to mistake her for anything close to a human girl right now. Her outraged shrieks echo with the millennia she’s existed through, and all of the horrors she’s witnessed and instigated. “Don’t hide from me,“ is what she’s saying, now, and she’s using her commanding voice, the deep and terrifying voice that makes every single hellbeast Jesy’s seen since coming to this school cower and obey. 

"I’m not,” Jesy says, because she knows that Perrie knows precisely where she is. She grips her crucifix tighter. The sharp ends of the cross and the little raised jut of Jesus welded to the front of it dig into her skin painfully. “I’m just keeping close to the holiest part of the room so you don’t try to steal my soul again, thanks.“

"I don’t steal souls,” Perrie says, petulantly. Her voice is calming down, back to the lilting cant that she’s adapted as part of her human disguise. “It’s against the rules; they have to be willingly given.“

"Tricked, then,” Jesy amends. Cautiously, she stands up. She can see Perrie when she leans around the edge of the altar a bit. Perrie’s hair is impossibly long and shifting in colour from ash-grey to lilac to hot pink to pure white. 

Jesy takes a minute to reflect on how she’s come to a point where she knows the Queen of the Damned well enough to tell that she’s still feeling emotionally unsettled just by her lack of control over her hair, and then she lets it go, takes a step to the side so she can see Perrie more plainly. 

“I might do that, yeah,” Perrie says, musingly, a tiny smile playing around the corner of her lips, and the horrible, terrifying thing is that Jesy actually finds it cute. The Queen of the Damned. Cute. Ugh.

“I still don’t get why you want me,” Jesy says, except she probably does know, because she has to clench her thighs together a little at the way Perrie’s forked tongue darts around to moisten her lips. 

“You’re a sinner, Jesy,” Perrie says. The way she says Jesy’s name sounds like a fucking caress. “You don’t even truly believe. Join me.“

That’s not entirely accurate, though, is it? Jesy started believing in God the minute she saw Perrie for the first time and realised that she was one of the few who could. And then she met Jade, who warned her about everything. Jesy still isn’t clear on whether Jade wants to climb back into heaven and rejoin the choir of angels or whether she’s embraced her fall and just wants to meddle, so she listens to her but not too carefully. The same goes for Leigh-Anne; she’s still not entirely sure who or what Leigh-Anne is but she suspects she’s not just another girl at the school. “Never,” she tells Perrie, voice breaking on the word.

“I can trick you out of your soul in other ways,” Perrie says, and she slinks closer to the front of the sanctuary, but she halts when she reaches the steps to the altar. “It would be so easy to make you… give in.“

Jesy has never been the academic sort, but ever since Perrie showed up, she’s been reading all she can about the devil, which is not very illuminating, and about the White Witch of Narnia, which is. She’s pretty sure that donating her soul to the forces of evil just involves a moment of submission - of any kind - and a simultaneous moment of sin. 

She thinks she can play with that. She doesn’t know. “Never thought I’d end up as the school protector,” she says. Father Gary even told her that she was no true Little Flower of the Academy not three days before Perrie’s arrival. “But I will keep it safe.“

"You can try,” Perrie says, her lips curving around her sharp teeth. She looks at where Jesy is standing in disgust. “Come down from there.“

"And let you try and trick me out of my soul?” Jesy asks. “I don’t think so.“

"I could go up to you, you know,” Perrie says, her gaze flicking to Jesy’s feet and then back up to her face - pausing at her breasts, and Jesy tries her hardest not to be pleased that even the Queen of the Damned can’t help but check her out. “If I wanted to.“

Jesy wonders if Perrie has a soul. She wonders what Perrie does with the souls she takes. She steps forward, smirking at Perrie. “I’d like to see you try.”

Perrie grimaces but she takes the challenge. She steps up once - twice - and then she’s on the same level as Jesy, cringing all the way. Her hair has settled into the ash-grey colour again, which means she’s feeling more settled. Jesy swallows, hard.

“I can follow you anywhere you go,” Perrie says, a whisper that holds the echoes of thousands of seductions before Jesy. “If I want.“

"Well, that’s just sad, isn’t it?” Jesy says, faking bravery. “I’m quite boring, actually, so what does that say about you?“

"I’ll have you yet,” Perrie breathes, and then she’s crowding into Jesy’s space. 

The terrible thing is that she feels so human when her front is pressed tight against Jesy’s, so much so that Jesy almost lets her eyes flutter shut when Perrie starts to lean up, craning her face in a way that makes it obvious that she’s going for a kiss.

But that would be giving in. Letting Perrie kiss her would be submitting to her, in some form or fashion, and Jesy can’t be positive - she usually sleeps during mass - but she’s pretty sure that kissing the Queen of the Damned, who is both female and one of the reigning denizens of hell, against the altar of the school sanctuary is probably sinful, somehow. 

But Perrie’s lips are so close, and so lovely, and if she takesthe kiss from Perrie, well. That’s not really submitting, is it?

So she wraps her hand around Perrie’s wrist, only faintly registering the way that her skin feels like there should be scales, or feathers, or something growing out of it, and jerks her back. “No,“ she says, and guides Perrie around so that her back is pressed hard against the Celtic cross carved into the altar. Perrie gasps and shrieks again, and claws sprout from her fingertips and she starts to yank her wrist free from Jesy’s grasp, but Jesy just frowns at her. “Like this,” she says, and grabs Perrie’s other wrist, her crucifix caught against the back of Perrie’s hand.

She presses both of Perrie’s hands above Perrie’s head, against the cool stone of the altar, and holds them there and freezes for a moment, watching the way that Perrie arches her back, trying to keep it from touching the carved cross, and then she leans in and bites at Perrie’s lips until they fall open, at which point she forces her tongue past them and tastes the sharpness of the tips of Perrie’s pointed teeth.

Eventually, Perrie’s breathing slows and calms and she licks forward, tongue brushing against Jesy’s, and her lips start to move, so Jesy jerks away before she can respond to the way that Perrie is returning her kiss. 

No submission, she reminds herself, and she takes two steps back, breathing heavily.

Perrie’s eyes have gone yellow and slitted, catlike, as she watches Jesy. “Well,“ she says, voice raspy. “That was interesting.”

Jesy doesn’t respond. She just turns and walks away, down the aisle to the exit.

She still has her soul.

**Author's Note:**

> [original post](http://dulosis.tumblr.com/post/57030034857/19-perrie-queen-of-the-damnedjesy-timid)
> 
>  
> 
> [title](http://spoliamag.tumblr.com/post/82384753119/slut-by-daphne-gottlieb)


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